(the walking dead) Life before Z (intro)

(The Walking Dead ) : Life Before Z.

A/N: just trying out a new profile for Asma. This one is similar yet different from the others. She's human, of course, she has a dark past, she has her issues but she's not a bad person. She's a survivor and she is determined to stay alive, even if it means killing people. I retell the day she encountered those she calls Z. (for Zombies obviously) TWD belongs to its owners.  

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It was a rainy day, she remembered it perfectly. A rainy day, probably a Tuesday. She was sleeping in her bed, wearing only flannel pants and a white tank top when she heard a hard knock on the front door. Opening one eye, she glanced at the watch by her bedside and groaned loudly as it was only 3 in the morning. Unwilling to stand up and open the door, she put her pillow against her face and tried to ignore the knocks but they became more and more violent, thus forcing her to stand up and walk towards the front door. As she opened it, she didn't even have the time to blink because it opened violently, hitting her in the process and forcing her to take a couple of steps back. As she stroked her cheek, the young woman looked up at the intruder, Sam.

He was the young woman on and off boyfriend. He was a large and towering Irish-American banker with red/orange hair, deep blue eyes, and an obsession with bodybuilding. She furrowed her brows and closed the door behind him as he paced towards the living room. They were in the middle of their break-up and she really didn't want to see his face in her house but since he forced himself in, she decided to roll with it. Sam was not a bad guy, but he definitely was an asshole. Her parents told her to leave the guy because both were co-dependent on each other, hurting the other and yet being in dire need of their presence. She could have severed their linking and ended their relationship but he was temporarily filling the void she had inside. He'd suffered from abandoning himself for his father dumped his family to build a new one somewhere else in the States and both were feeding off the affection they gave each other but it wasn't Love. It was brutal, it was possessive. His strong dominant personality attracted her, she needed to feel roughed up, needed.. oh yes, needed. She needed it and he was giving it to her like a drug. But it wasn't healthy because none of them actually was in love with the other and neither of them could fix the other and yet they believed they could.

« What are you doing around so late? » She groaned while scratching the top of her head. He patted his lap and invited her to sit on it but she shook her head. « No. We're on a break remember? I don't want to see your face, or your dick for a while. » She crossed her arms over her ample chest, furrowing her brows as he kept patting his lap.

« Then grab me a beer. » 

« You haven't answered. Why are you here, fool? »

« You didn't hear the news? People are getting crazy and loot and fight. Police are killing people.. people. We don't know what's going on. I need a beer. »

« Why did you come here? Don't you have your fuckbuddies you could have gone to? » She complained while she went to the kitchen.

She furrowed her brows as she grabbed the bottle and put it on the counter. What was she doing? What was she doing in there, with him? It wasn't the first time he casually came to her place, in spite of her protests, and got away with it. He'd drink, eat, fuck her until he got enough of it and would leave early in the morning for his job. She didn't deserve this, she didn't deserve this lack of respect. Marie was a very nice woman. She was kind and loving; everyone said she was very soft-spoken and that children adored her. Nobody believed she was resilient or even strong. Nobody believed she could teach a lesson or two to men like Sam. She was fragile, yes, but she wasn't made of glass. If anything she was strong and determined to survive. Ever since she was a child, the pink-haired painter was a survivor. Her biological mother, a crack addict, abandoned her when she was 5 because she couldn't support a third child she survived two weeks of starvation, eating from trash cans whenever she could and her luck prevented her from being abused like any child her age would have undergone if it was in her shoes. So why ?.. why couldn't she ditch Sam?

She felt strong brutal hands grab her waist, beneath her shirt, and run up until they reached below her breasts. She gasped and tried to turn around but he leaned into her, forcing her to bend forward over the counter.

« Fuck you! Get off me! I'm not in the mood! »

« C'mon! I know you want me! You've always wanted this dick before, why would you refuse now? »

« I don't want it, Sam. I was fucking sleeping before you crashed at my door! Get OFF ME! » She yelled at him, but he was heavily intoxicated already and she realized that if she didn't do anything, he wouldn't stop at all. Sam was this stubborn. She hated when they fucked while he was in such a state, because he didn't know how to stop, or he refused to do it until he reached his own climax. It always left her bruised and sore but this time, it was different and she could tell by the way he was breathing and the force he used to pin her against the counter. Her breathing quickened and she became as stiff as wood as she was already searching for a way to escape. Her chestnut eyes locked onto the bottle of beer she had in her hand and she quickly smashed it against his face, eliciting a groan from him and giving her enough room to escape from his embrace.

« COME BACK HERE! » He growled but she didn't listen and kept running, but he was faster than her and grabbed her ankle, making her stumble but not fall. She had to straighten again but he slapped her face, hard enough to make her bleed from her mouth and cause her to fall onto the ground. She rolled on her side and crawled to the bedroom where her baseball bat was stored. He started to unbuckle his pants and chuckle darkly. « Ahaha.. you decided to play it rough tonight uh Asma? » She winced, her cheek still burning from the slap he gave her and still crawling towards her bed. « You can't escape from me, babe. I told you, nobody ever says no to Sam. You cut me with that bottle, you're gonna pay! » He dropped his pants, down to his thighs, she could hear it and hastily looked for her baseball bat. Her body was shivering, mostly because of the aftermath of his blow and because she was scared of not finding the bat in time and going through another shitstorm again with him. « Be nice to me Asma. Be nice and I might be gentler. » He sneered while grabbing a fist of her hair and yanking it back, causing pain and her to groan with it but she could grab the bat in time and once she was sure she would not let go of it, the young woman turned around and started to beat him with it.

Smash! Smash! SMASH! SMASH !!  She hit him over and over again. Her blows became stronger and her technique better as she remembered what her father taught her when she was younger. He knew she was a soft soul and he needed her to be able to defend herself if attacked. When she was dating Sam, it felt as if she had forgotten all of her father's teachings until now. Now, the pink-haired lady was just made of rage and was beating him with all the repressed anger and disgust she felt when she looked at him. He started to plead with her to stop because his face was bleeding profusely and bits of his skull were flying over but she didn't stop, she kept hitting, giving back all the pain he gave her when he was hurting her while she didn't ask for it, for the way he disrespected her, for the way he used her but most importantly for having tried to do something she could never forgive. Or maybe it was something else, as she beat him to death, she felt a guilty pleasure overwhelm her, taking control of her very being and leaving her in a very confused state of mind. He'd stopped moving and she started to laugh maniacally before breaking down into an ugly cry. She fell onto her knees and then sat on her heels and stared at the messy horror she'd just made. His lifeless body was lying on the floor and bits of brain and skull were on her bat.

Without thinking twice, she stood up, grabbed a bag threw in the essentials, enough to survive for at least 10 days, and ran outside. Forgot her umbrella but didn't mind the heavy rain that was falling upon her, as if it was cleansing her from the crime she'd just committed. Her panicked mind was still confused between having her laugh or cry so she did both and was holding her head as if it could help her find a solution to the situation. It only was when she was a lot closer to the city center that she noticed something was wrong. People were agitated, they were screaming and looting. She furrowed her brows and decided to seek shelter at a church. She found one that was still inhabited by nuns and hit on their doors, calling them out so one of them could open the door but she heard no noise. Worried and starting to become cold due to the rain, she tried to open the door. Instead of being locked, she could easily break in, which alarmed the young woman who took out her bat and held it firmly in her hands. The church was hushed, a little too much since there were candles lit and it stunk. As she wrinkled her nose, the young woman twirled her wrist and started to speak loud enough to be heard. « Is there someone? Hey? Are there any nuns here? I came here for the night. » But no answer.. just the dark silence.

Asma was starting to breathe more nervously, she didn't want to scare the nuns, let alone be denied shelter but then suddenly she heard a sound. It wasn't human, it was weird. So she said out loud again. « If there's a child here, it's not funny! You can't scare people like that! » She was still exploring the church, walking carefully as if someone could surprise or attack her. Finally, at a corner, she saw what seemed to be a group of nuns busy doing something she couldn't see. They were crouching on top of what seemed to be someone, maybe they were trying to help that person? Well, if they were why there was a munching sound? Her pulse was quickening and the pink-haired beauty started to believe that something was very off and her guts never lied to her. She furrowed her brows and stepped closer « Hi! I'm sorry I don't want to .. WHOAAAAAAA! » They all turned at her with faces eaten by death itself! Asma couldn't believe her eyes. She screamed and started to run, they were following her, quite fast but not enough to catch her.

Panic was starting to take its toll on her, how was she supposed to fight that? Was she hallucinating? Was it God telling her that she shouldn't have been killed earlier? She was terrified and lost track of coherent thoughts; She'd just killed a man and now what looked like zombie nuns were running after her. She could glance back and see the mutilated corpse lying there and realize that they actually were eating the poor thing. Quick! Puke it all! Puke! Her insides were growling and her belly was hurting. She had a bad taste in her mouth and already an urge to puke but was trying to contain herself. Flashes of her previous crime were filling her head and she didn't know what she could do. These creatures were coming closer and sooner or later, they might kill her. She wanted to cry and started to sob, thinking #this is it. I'm going to die there !#

People were still burning the city and looting outside and if she quickly didn't secure the church, she might fall into the worst of mankind very soon. She tightened her grip on her bat and took a deep breath. Panic slowly started to fade away as something else grew stronger inside of her: she needed to survive, whether or not people died on her way. She would also come to her parents, to make sure they were alive, but knowing her father, he would have found a way out to secure her mother. So she really just should get away as fast as possible. As far away as possible from the madness. Determined again, she finally let the herd of nuns come closer and when she swung her bat and crashed it in the face of one of them, literally bursting it into a pulp, she didn't realize that she actually made a step forward in her survival quest.

Welcome to the new world Asma. Stay alive as long as possible.